


Crumbling Walls

by 4ce_in_sp4ce



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Arthur cares more than he wants to admit, Arthur subscribes to the "if I don't talk about it then it'll go away" school of emotional coping, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Guilt, Post-Canon sorta, after the kick but before they wake up on the plane, thankfully Eames doesn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:13:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26687971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4ce_in_sp4ce/pseuds/4ce_in_sp4ce
Summary: Arthur needed to talk. Otherwise he’d try to ignore it and bury it and pretend it wasn’t there, that he was fine, and absolutely none of it would go away until he talked about it. Eames knew that. But he also knew the importance of silence sometimes. So he didn’t say anything when he felt Arthur’s breath catch or when his shoulders started shaking slightly, he just pulled him a little closer.
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 81





	Crumbling Walls

Eames sighed as another drop of water hit his face. No matter where he sat he seemed to be directly under something that was leaking; at this rate he’d still be wet by the time they woke up in 3 days, and that was _not_ a pleasant prospect. “You did realize we’d actually have to _stay_ in these places when you designed them, right?”

Ariadne shrugged. “They were all designed for Fischer to be held hostage in, and it needed to feel authentic. Besides,” she shot Yusuf a look, “I didn’t realize we’d be dealing with heavy rain the entire time.”

“I already apologized for that four times, I’m not doing it a fifth.” Yusuf frowned. “And it was _free champaign!_ How was I supposed to turn that down?”

“With a polite smile and the knowledge that you were going to be unconscious for the next 10 hours.” Eames groaned and stood up slowly. “I’m going to go join Arthur in keeping an eye out. You kids get some sleep.”

He could still hear Yusuf grumbling as he walked over to the garage door. Arthur was seated next to it, a dent in the metal making it possible to see the general area outside without the door being open. He was watching it intently, gun in hand, as Eames sat down beside him. “Any sign of the projections?”

“No, we still seem to be good.”

Eames glanced over Arthur’s shoulder, trying to see out into the dark. “If they haven’t come after us yet, I’d say they probably aren’t going to at all. They don’t have any reason to now that we’ve left Fischer alone.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Arthur shrugged, still looking outside. “Doesn’t hurt to be prepared though.”

Eames nodded, watching Arthur as they fell into silence, the rain outside and Yusuf and Ariadne’s conversation in the other room the only noise around them. He’d been quiet the past couple of days which wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary for him, but his quietness wasn’t usually this tense. Eames had a decent guess what was behind it but Arthur had kept himself busy and generally away from the rest of them over the past few days. He wasn’t exactly much of a conversationalist at the best of times, and he seemed particularly keen on not talking right now.

They sat in silence for a while, Arthur watching outside carefully. Eames went between watching the rain fall and watching Arthur’s profile in the dim light. He was tense, on guard, even though both of them knew they likely weren’t in any danger. If Fischer’s projections hadn’t attacked them by now, it was unlikely they would at all. At least not as long as they left Fischer alone. Yusuf and Ariande's conversation faded behind them, the two of them clearly taking Eames up on his suggestion to get some sleep, until there was just rain and silence. Arthur didn't get any less tense as the minutes passed though, gripping his gun tightly. Eames watched him carefully. "You alright?"

"Of course." Arthur's tone was short and clipped. Not the voice of someone interested in conversation. "I'm fine."

"You've just been a bit…tense the past couple of days is all."

"We're not out of danger until we wake up, and it'll be another 3 days before that happens. Of course I'm tense."

"Right. Yeah. Of course." They fell back into an uncomfortable silence. Eames watched as Arthur tightened his grip on the gun. He hesitated, wondering for a moment if he should just let this lie. Arthur clearly didn’t want to talk. But _wanting_ to talk and _needing_ to talk were two different things. "He's going to be alright."

"Who?"

"Cobb." 

Arthur's shoulders hunched slightly and he looked down. When he spoke again after a moment his voice was curt and hard. "You should go get some sleep. There's no use in both of us keeping watch."

"Arthur, you…"

"I'm fine, Eames. Get some rest."

"It's not your fault, it…"

"Yes, it _is_." Arthur's response was immediate and Eames flinched at the harsh tone. "It was my job to check Fischer's background thoroughly. His sub-security shouldn't have been a surprise. I fucked up. I fucked up and Saito got shot and Cobb followed him into limbo, and that's entirely fucking on me." His voice cracked slightly at the end and he looked back down, taking a deep breath. "If I'd done my job properly we wouldn't be here."

Eames stared at him, shocked. He'd heard Arthur angry before, his words harsh and tone hard, but not like this. This wasn't anger. This was pain. "You're good at what you do, Arthur. The best. There's no question. But you're not perfect. No one is. People make mistakes. They miss things. It happens to everyone, even you." He paused, considering his next words carefully. “And…even if you _had_ found absolutely everything, you still wouldn’t have had all the information. Cobb deliberately withheld information about the job from us, and you know as well as I do that he brought shit in here with him. We would’ve faced fire from Fischer’s security regardless, but I guarantee we faced a hell of a lot more because of the freight train Cobb brought through that intersection.”

“It was still my job though. It was my job and I missed it.” Arthur’s voice was quieter now and he seemed to draw in on himself. “It’s my fault.”

“Arthur.” Eames rested his hand gently on Arthur’s arm. “Arthur, darling, look at me.” Arthur wouldn’t look at him fully, but he turned enough that Eames could see the pain in his expression in the dim light. “Don’t blame yourself for this. You made a mistake, yes, but this isn’t all your fault. And Cobb made his own choice. I know you’re worried, but his decision to stay in limbo was _his_ and the consequences of that decision fall on him, not you.” 

Arthur looked away again, not saying anything. He didn’t pull his arm away though, and after a moment Eames moved closer, sliding his hand to Arthur’s back and moving his thumb back and forth in what he hoped was a comforting motion. He could feel the tension in Arthur’s body, like a rubber band that had been stretched too tight, ready to snap. Eames thought back over the past couple of days, to Arthur’s strained silence and tight expressions. Maybe that wasn’t really that inaccurate.

“And what if he’s not?”

Eames looked over, Arthur’s question surprising him slightly. He’d figured he’d said all he was willing to say. “Not what?”

“Not alright.” He was still speaking quietly. “What if he loses himself down there? You can say he’ll be alright all you want, but we both know there’s the very real possibility that neither he nor Saito will make it back. Who explains that to Miles? To his kids?” Arthur was gripping his sleeves tightly, distinctly not looking at Eames. “That’s all he wanted, Eames. To get back to them. I watched him after Mal died, after he had to go on the run. I saw what it did to him to have to leave James and Philippa. I followed him around the fucking world on job after job even after he started fucking them up and stopped being able to keep Mal out of them because I wanted to see him get home eventually. And I-” Eames could hear the tell-tale hitch in his breathing as he took another deep breath. “If he loses himself, I’ll be the reason he never made it there.”

“Don’t. Don’t do that, alright?” Eames wrapped his arm around Arthur’s shoulders, running a hand through his hair as he dropped his head, seeming to draw in on himself even more. “Don’t try and carry the blame for things that haven’t even happened. For things that aren’t your fault.”

Arthur needed to talk. Otherwise he’d try to ignore it and bury it and pretend it wasn’t there, that he was fine, and absolutely none of it would go away until he talked about it. Eames knew that. But he also knew the importance of silence sometimes. So he didn’t say anything when he felt Arthur’s breath catch or when his shoulders started shaking slightly, he just pulled him a little closer. Arthur moved easily with him, leaning against his side, bringing a hand to his mouth to try and muffle already quiet sobs. Eames had worked a lot of jobs with Arthur over the years and had seen him in a variety of situations and circumstances. He’d seen Arthur angry, seen him annoyed and frustrated and smug, seen him hold his own in fights that would’ve taken out most other people. But he’d never seen him cry. Extraction was a profession where vulnerability was a weakness and a thing to be avoided, and in all their years working together Eames had never seen Arthur’s carefully built and maintained walls crumble so completely. 

Arthur didn’t pull away even after his breathing started evening out again. Instead he leaned further against Eames, some of the tension finally draining out of his shoulders. Not much, but some. “Thank you.”

Eames could still hear the pain in his voice, mixed with sadness and blame. It would be a while before it went away, even once they woke up, even if Cobb was ultimately fine. He knew Arthur well enough to know that. It wasn’t quite as strong though, and Eames would take any victory he could, no matter how small. “Of course, darling.” He ran his hand through Arthur’s hair again, smiling as Arthur leaned into the touch slightly, sniffling quietly. “You should get some rest. I’ve barely seen you sleep these past few days.”

“Is it alright if…if we stay here for a bit?”

“Yeah. That’d be nice, actually.” Eames rested his cheek on the top of Arthur’s head and stared out at the rain falling outside as Arthur settled against him. His hand was resting on Arthur’s upper arm, and after a moment he felt Arthur’s fingers hesitantly brushing against his. He shifted his hand, intertwining their fingers slightly. “We can stay here as long as you want.”

It wasn’t long before Arthur’s breathing started to slow and he relaxed against Eames more fully. It briefly occurred to Eames that maybe he should wake Arthur up before he fell asleep too- he could already feel exhaustion tugging at him and sleeping sitting up like this certainly wouldn’t be the most comfortable option- but he dismissed the thought almost immediately. He could rationalize it as Arthur needed sleep and he might not fall back asleep if Eames woke him up, but he was tired and rationalizing things was more energy than it was worth. Arthur needed comfort. Needed someone there for him. And Eames wanted to be that person. Simple as that. He could figure out what that meant later, when he was less tired and Arthur was less upset. In the meantime, though, it was late and they’d had a long couple of days, and the pull of sleep was quickly getting too strong from Eames to ignore. He closed his eyes, letting the soft sound of rain and warmth of Arthur beside him surround him as he drifted off.


End file.
